A heavy policeman at the corner had seen the car. He pointed west into
the cavernous darkness of the wharves.

"If she ain't down at the Imperial docks she's gone plump into the
river, for that's the way she went," he insisted. The policeman had
the bearing of a major-general and the accent of the city of Cork.
Hambleton went on past the curving street-car tracks, dodged a loaded
dray emerging from the dock, and threaded his way under the shed. He
passed piles of trunks, and a couple of truckmen dumping assorted
freight from an ocean liner. No motor-car or veiled lady, nor sound of
anything like a woman's voice. Hambleton came out into the street
again, looked about for another probable avenue of escape for the car
and was at the point of bafflement, when the major-general pounded
slowly along his way.

"In there, my son, and no nice place either!" pointing to a smaller
entrance alongside the Imperial docks, almost concealed by swinging
signs. It was plainly a forbidden way, and at first sight appeared too
narrow for the passage of any vehicle whatsoever. But examination
showed that it was not too narrow; moreover, it opened on a level with
the street.

"If you really want her, she's in there, though what'll be to pay if
you go in there without a permit, I don't know. I'd hate to have to
arrest you."

"It might be the best thing for me if you did, but I'm going in. You
might wait here a minute. Captain, if you will."

"I will that; more especially as that car was a stunner for speed and I